Chapter 6 - The Secret Vault
The revelation hung heavily in the cold interrogation room. Agent Miller closed the manila folder with a quiet thud.
“Are you telling me,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, “that he married me solely to gain access to my family’s private digital vault?”
Agent Miller nodded slowly, sliding a single printed sheet across the table. It was a copy of our marriage license, signed just hours ago at the chapel before the reception. But attached to the back was an addendum—a prenuptial clause granting immediate power of attorney over all familial digital assets upon marriage.
“According to this document, signed by both you and Julian Vance yesterday afternoon, he holds full legal stewardship over your family’s historical database,” Agent Miller stated calmly. “A database that happens to contain the missing financial records of his father’s defunct foundation.”
I stared at the signature at the bottom of the page. It looked like mine, but the curvature of the final letter was wrong. Another forgery. Or perhaps a document switched out during the frantic signing session at the lawyer's office the day before.
“I never signed this addendum,” I insisted, looking up into the agent’s eyes. “Our original agreement only covered pre-existing real estate holdings. This—this is entirely fabricated.”
“Then you’ll need to prove that in court, Mrs. Vance,” Agent Miller replied, standing up and gathering his files. “As it stands, the eighty-two million dollars has been traced back to an account currently controlled by your new husband. But because the transfer originated from your device under your legal credentials, you are listed as the primary co-conspirator.”
Before I could demand another word, the door swung open, and a public defender appointed by the court walked in, a tired-looking man carrying a worn briefcase.
“Sarafina Vance? I’m Marcus Vance—no relation, thankfully,” the lawyer said with a dry, humorless smirk. “Your husband has just posted a five-million-dollar bond to release you into his custody pending formal arraignment.”
My blood ran cold. Release me into his custody?
“I won't go with him,” I said, standing up abruptly. “He framed me. If I go back with him, he’ll finish whatever he started.”
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“You don't have much of a choice,” Marcus replied, adjusting his glasses. “The judge granted the release motion ten minutes ago. Your husband is waiting outside in a black town car.”
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